A Matter Of Minutes
by AstridGeek107
Summary: Hermione Granger,the epitome of perfection, faces a setback in her marriage to Ron Weasely. A setback of to be or not to be with the worry of tattering her image of a perfectionist. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, has everything he never wished for:a loving wife, a beautiful son and an amazing life.But life hates tallying one path and everything changes, all in a matter of minutes
1. Chapter 1: Lying Is The Most Fun

**Disclaimer- All original characters are the property of J.K Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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 _ **Chapter 1**_

 _ **Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off**_

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The sky lit up with each lantern gliding in the air, allowing destiny to take them wherever it desired. Each lantern was customized according to their makers' preference. Hermione wanted to make herself a bird but due to it's overwhelming weight, she decided against it. Ginny fancied a heart-shaped lantern while James attempted at a round-shaped one painted gold. He prided his work and bragged it to his little brother. He named it 'The Golden Snitch' and believed it would fly the farthest.

Harry, Ron and George had been asked to participate, but they snorted at them and returned to grooming their brooms to play a match of Qudditch. Hermione had wished for Ron to take up some interest in what she was doing but tried to resist her feelings. After all, he hadn't met Harry for about six months and she wasn't keen on annoying him again on the matter of not giving him enough personal space. So, she went about and did her own thing, trying not to care.

Almost everyone had gone inside when the lanterns flew out of view. Ron and Hermione were still the ones staring at the dark bare night sky. He had his arm around her waist as she rested her head on top of his shoulder. Hermione used to remember how warm he felt when she pressed herself against him. Now his bones made her cheek hurt and she no longer felt warm beside him.

"Happy anniversary, Hermione." He whispered in her ear. His breath stank of rum from the evening drinking with Harry, George and Bill.

Hermione covered her nose and put up a smile as she repeated his words with a sweetness she knew was forged. Ron brought up his hand over her shoulder and beckoned her to go inside. As they made their way back, Hermione looked back at the soulless sky and decided she mirrored the unmoving darkness. She used to have adventures of infinite wonders, a life with excitement and love. She used to shine as bright as the stars itself. But now, she leads a life full of repetition and no adventures. She's made herself indifferent to life, almost as dark as the sky hovering above her.

They entered the warmth of The Burrow and dropped their coats by the coat hanger. Harry was busy talking with Bill by the corner of the room. George was teaching James how to use a love potion which Ginny was unaware of. George always tested Ginny's temper and he probably was only interested at teaching James for that specific intention. Ginny was busy decorating Ron and Hermione's third marriage anniversary cake. Hermione had requested to help them but Mrs. Weasley shoved her away so she busied herself with lantern making.

Ron made his way to the kitchen to grab one of the sherbet lemons Hermione had bought for everyone. He then went to sit by Bill and joined in on their conversation. Hermione hardly gave a care as to what they were talking about and sat by herself on the dining table, sipping from a mug of hot chocolate that Mrs. Weasley had made for her and James. After a while Ginny finished up her side of the cooking and baking, and sat beside Hermione, taking small mouthfuls of butterbeer.

"You know, I was wondering when you guys would think about taking up a child. I don't mean to pressurize you both. It's your decision but have you ever thought about it?" Ginny looked over at Hermione as Hermione processed her question. Has she thought about children? Well of course, she has. But she wasn't sure whether she could go to such a huge commitment with Ron. Hermione knew her marriage was slowly tearing at the edges and inevitably the stage of multitudinous rows will come knocking at their doorstep. She wasn't eager at bringing a child in such a situation.

"We have thought about it, yes." Hermione replied, not looking up at Ginny. She could easily guess when Hermione was lying, and it'd be better for her not to burden her with questions asking whether she was alright when she herself didn't know the answer.

"Are you not interested in conceiving or are you having problems with it?" Ginny continued. Hermione bit her lower lip and pretended to be focused on finishing up her drink. Ginny was still waiting for her answer.

"We are definitely interested but we don't know when's the proper time." Truthfully Ron never discussed the topic of kids. Hermione had been persistent in making Ron acknowledge her cosmic desire of parenting during their first year of marriage. Ron, however, worked up new ways to avoid the matter and in time, Hermione found herself equally apathetic.

Ginny grunted, "Don't know when's the proper time, eh? Well it's your matter, not mine. But I'd bloody like to be an aunt again. Victorie and Molly are now a tad grown and don't fit in my arms anymore. I'd like another baby to hold, ya know."

Hermione laughed, "Get pregnant yourself then."

"That's hard work. Tell you what, babies are only adorable when you don't have to take care of them all the time. I just want the result without the hard work." Ginny smirked.

Just then Harry appeared behind them. "What are you both talking 'bout?" He said as he bent over to kiss Ginny's hairline and grab a sherbet lemon while he was at it. Ginny brushed the topic aside and replied with a "Nothing". Harry wasn't concerned for a proper answer anyways and drew a chair for himself to sit on. Mrs. Weasley started filling up the table with her cooking. Her mushroom soup was steaming while her roasted turkey filled up the air with its rich smell. On one side she placed a bowl of beef casserole and a plate of hash browns. The look of it all made Hermione salivate as she convinced herself that aside from the Hogwarts elves, no one cooked as incredibly as did.

Dinner was rowdy yet fun. Hermione was used to quiet dinner tables at home, often with a 'how was your day' and a 'fine' and that was about it. She missed the noisiness and the offensive jokes of Bill and George. Fleur and Victorie was too tired to join in and resorted to a nap. They missed out all the fun, Hermione mused later.

After the last plate was licked clean by James, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny brought out the cake. Mrs. Weasley had decorated it with the colours of Gryffindor and painted a Quaffle and a book on the top. Hermione thanked Mrs. Weasley and cut through the moist layer of the first tier with a butter knife with Ron's hand on top of hers. Ron bent himself forward to give Hermione a kiss and she only allowed a peck.

Hermione dived into the cake as soon as she received it. The flavor of coffee beans with chocolate frosting was an absolute heaven to her taste buds. It wasn't until her third plate that she felt her stomach almost bursting from the amount of food she had devoured. At last she yearned for the warmth of a bed and a good night's sleep.

She announced her wish and said her goodbyes before making her way up to Ron's old bedroom. Mrs. Weasley had made sure it was clean enough for Hermione which Hermione appreciated beyond words. She undressed and changed into her night gown before jumping into the bed. She closed her eyes and signalled for her body to sleep. She was halfway asleep when the door to the room opened and Ron slid inside. Hermione was too tired to acknowledge him. A few minutes later, Hermione felt his bare chest pressing against her back as Ron started kissing her jaw. Hermione slowly opened her eyes and straightened up.

"What are you doing?" She asked but Ron didn't shift from his kissing. He gradually trailed along her jaw and nibbled on her ears before whispering, "Kissing you."

Hermione moved and faced him. Ron took that as a chance to move to her lips and pushed himself on her. Hermione shook him away, "Ron, I'm tired."

"Darling, it's our third anniversary." Ron reasoned. Hermione shrugged. She used to love the taste of him but she's changed now. Her youthful desires seemed strange now, almost as if she was a completely different person. She no longer had the lusts of her teenage self.

Ron started tracing his fingers along her neck and down to her chest. He pushed her back and sat on top of her, pecking his lips where his fingers had been. Hermione tried to adjust her mind to what she wanted and realized it was not him. But she could never go through the whole farce following a divorce. She knew that this time what she wanted could not be granted with ease.

So she fell back and allowed Ron to push himself inside her, occasionally sending out slight moans. But she was lost in her own thoughts and when Ron finished and laid beside her, Hermione felt tears rolling down her cheek and dampening her pillow. She was playing a game of pretend with love and she had no idea how to quit.

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 **New chapters will be posted every Sunday and Wednesday. Occasional delays may be the result of future inconveniences.**

 **Also it would be quite nice for someone to write a review as to how I'm going so far. *Wink, Wink ;)***


	2. Chapter 2: The One That Got Away

_**Chapter 2**_

 _ **The One That Got Away**_

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Scorpius was precisely the light of the Malfoy Manor. The house barely had a hint of light striking through the dark almost ghost-like walls. Scorpius hated the dark more than anything and would always ask his grandmother to make light with her wand. His grandmother would laugh at him and later tell his father that over dinner, but Scorpius never understood why they used to laugh.

When Scorpius's pleading became close to nagging, Draco along with his mother cut down some high-risen trees and broke one or two walls, enough for the Malfoy Manor to adhere little to it's prominent trait of being mysterious. But Draco would have even run around naked on the streets for the smile Scorpius had given him after the work was done.

Astoria was also decently pleased with the new renovation. She often commented the manor being 'ghastly'. Malfoy used to disagree. He had grown up here and the darkness was always his friend. He could easily hide under the shadows when his parents had their daily rows or when the Death-Eaters invaded their house with their preposterous hostility. He could hide from the sneers that they used to give him for not holding up to the entitlement of a 'Malfoy'. He was too skinny, too pale and too much afraid for the likes of them. He found comfort in the darkness and it was the darkness who knew him as the boy he truly was and not the boy he was made to be. Of course, he never told Astoria any of that. She wouldn't have understood.

But now that he had Astoria and Scorpius and a departed father, the darkness was no longer needed as a source of assurance for him. At least Scorpious knew who his father was and that was enough for him. The whole world could call him a 'coward' or shame him as much as they liked now, he had Scorpius to tell him otherwise.

Draco sat on the patio with the latest version of the Daily Prophet spread over the coffee table, beside a mug of fuming hot chocolate. Scorpious was lying on the grass, playing with his toy hippogriff which Draco's mother had bought him for Christmas. Draco had broken into a fit of laughter after seeing the little thing being unpacked, earning confused glances from both his wife and son. Narcissa grinned and explained to her grandson that the hippogriff was Draco's favourite beast growing up, which was a good enough explanation for the little Scorpius who then joined his father at his guffawing.

Malfoy cherished every moment of his life now. Well except for the hours at work which were long and heinous. But to his luck he had succeeded to the family wealth and work was only on Tuesdays and Fridays, when he had to attend meetings and whatnot. Even then he cherished how his life was the precise definition of normal. He had days when he wished to escape from everything. Days when Narcissa and Astoria got into heated arguments about Scorpius's upbringing or when Astoria tugged at his nerves. Yet he knew it was all okay because that's how everyone felt. At least he wasn't being forced to kill his headmaster or do something he truly didn't want to.

Scorpius pulled at Draco's pants, using it as a leverage to stand up. Draco picked the toddler up and placed him on his lap. He admired how his son had inherited all the Malfoy looks, from the blonde hair to the grey eyes to the pale anemic face, Scorpius was picture copy of his father.

"Daddy," Scorpius looked up at his dad as Draco messed up his hair.

"Yeah?"

"What are Muggles?" Scorpius asked, lowering his pitch.

"Well, Muggles are people without the connection to the magical world, although some very special Muggles can make babies with magical powers."

"So why does Grandma Nar hate Muggles so much?" Scorpius's eyes meet Draco's. His innocence almost broke his heart; his mother was already tainting his son like she and his father did with him.

"Grandma Nar, my son, is afraid. She thinks Muggles don't belong with us but that's not true. Muggles are the same as us, okay? They just have different abilities." Draco smiled at the toddler whose face seemed to brighten up a little with that reassurance.

"So if I like a Muggle, will Grandma Nar hate me too?" Scorpius furrowed his brows. Malfoy chuckled at his question, "You already like someone?"

Scorpius's cheeks burned red and he turned away, avoiding contact with his father, "No". He scrambled his way down from Draco's lap and ran back inside screaming as loud as his little lungs could manage, "NO!", while Draco continued laughing.

Eventually he found his breath and calmed down. "Liking a Muggle, eh?" Draco said to himself with a shrug as he busied himself back with the Daily Prophet. "Liking a Muggle…", he continued as the days at Hogwarts started coming back to his mind. He remembered the fits and fights, bullying and being bullied, Crabbe and Goyle, and the Weasley bunch and Potter, and slowly the beautiful Muggle he never could have had.

He remembered the brown mess of a hair she had and that witty smile, the one that used to punch him in the heart every time he looked at her. Draco knew he was always a coward but when he was around her, he felt that all so much more. He could never show he cared; the prejudice was too strong. His father would have disowned him if he knew and his mother could never have looked at him the same way.

Draco used to watch her when no one was looking. He loved every little inch of her. The way her eyes widened when she found something amusing in her books, and the way she curved the corners of her lips and chuckled under her breath so as to not grab attention. Draco loved it all. He could never control himself when she was near. So he forced himself to insult her, to make her feel disgusted of him so he could do the same. But he never did.

He remembered when his father almost got to know of his fondness for a Muggle, and he quickly resorted to having a snobby shrew as his girlfriend. He honestly wished he hadn't though. But he was a coward who was too afraid of his own feelings, and she was the one who got away. Malfoy could never forgive himself for letting her go. Astoria was an amazing woman and he was ever lucky to have her but Draco could never admit to loving Astoria as much as he loved Hermione Granger.

Malfoy folded his newspaper when he found himself unable to concentrate on the article he was intending to read. As he did so, a woman with a sleek body wrapped in a tight black dress appeared in front of him, bending herself to give her husband a peck in the lips. Draco beamed at her as she made herself comfortable on a chair in front of him.

"What's Scorpius on about? He's so flushed that I suspect he's turning into a normal human with an actual skin colour" Astoria giggled. Draco was still lost in his own thoughts and was snapped back to reality when Astoria waved her hands in front of him.

"Darling, are you alright?" Astoria asked, knitting her brows. Draco's heart raced; the memory of Hermione made him feel oddly ashamed. He had a wife who loved him more than Hermione ever would, he didn't have the right to demean her love.

"Yes, I am." Draco said firmly, more as an assurance to himself rather than a reply.

Astoria wasn't convinced of his answer, yet knew best not to trouble her husband. Draco was hardly the one to share his genuine feelings. Instead she left him as he was, sunken with the memory of his childhood lover. She gave a little kiss on his forehead and Draco watched her make her way back inside, opening her arms as Scorpius ran to hug her. But, later to his utmost distaste, he started picturing a life without Scorpius and Astoria and the Pureblood supremacy impeding him from facing his true feelings. He began to think of a life with Hermione Granger and how he would actually fancy it.

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 **This is absolutely un-related to and to Harry Potter. The following is in regard of the lives that have been lost today in a gay nightclub in Orlando and to Christina Grimmie, along with all the victims and their families of mass shootings.**

 **I am a non-American but crime is not a strange subject. Yet, mass shootings are quite uncommon where I live, thanks to the majority of the population being unable to purchase guns. With strong belief, restricting gun access is something the American government should take into consideration. Remember, what you deem as protection, someone else finds it a method to kill. Guns were made with the sole purpose of inflicting harm. It is NOT a protection mechanism.**

 **Thank you and I wish not to offend anyone with my own opinion. Everyone is entitled to their own beliefs, I've just shared mine.**


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